“Not my highest priority,” Stuart interrupted.
“It may be true that we were several years from deploying DreamStar, Mr. President,” Elliott said, “but the Soviets could follow an entirely different timetable. We have the F-32 fighter in preproduction that will be out front-line fighter for the next five to ten years. The Soviets have their MiG-33 and Sukhoi-35 fighters operational or in production that will serve them for the next decade. Neither of those fighters can match our F-32—and that is a DOD assessment, not mine. With the XF-34 fighter in production in the Soviet Union, they will easily have the capability to counter our front-line fighters for the next ten years unti! we redevelop our own XF-34—and then we will only be matching the Soviets’ capability. We will instantly be five years behind the Soviets if we don’t react.”
“General, you’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion—”
“All right, enough,” the President said. “We don’t need to get into arguments about the future. The fact is, they got the damn plane. What do we do about it now?”
“I think we need to examine this problem from another perspective, Lloyd,” Attorney General Benson said, “the political side. This thing’s about to be splashed all over TV, newspapers and videotext terminals around the world. We can avoid feeding fuel to the fire by not providing any details, and it may indeed fizzle out over time, but the opposition is going to use this against us when their convention opens in Seattle next month. We need a strong, positive step to show the voters that we’re in charge—”
“So you favor a military response?”
“Not necessarily, Lloyd,” Benson said, leaning sideways toward the President and scarcely making himself heard in the conference room. As the President’s brother-in-law (he’d taken plenty of heat for that), he was one of the few Cabinet members who called the President by his first name; when he did it usually meant he was separating himself from the Cabinet to make an especially strong point. “But we’re playing catch-up ball here — the press has the advantage and we can’t let that situation continue. You’ve got to make a move that shows that you’re ready to handle the situation. We don’t have to decide on an offensive against Nicaragua right now — I think it would be a bad move anyway. But you do have to make a move, and something stronger than a diplomatic protest. Five months from now when the voters ask what you did about this, you want to be able to point to something substantial, positive.”
Benson decided after the meeting he would tell the President that the first step would be to get rid of Elliott. After all, he was the one who lost the damn plane …
The President held up his hand, indicating that he was going to reserve judgment, and turned to William Stuart. “Outline our responses, Bill.”
“I think it’s a problem for State or CIA, Mr. President,” Stuart said. “We can’t attack Nicaragua. It’s just not an option for us. CIA might be able to suggest something, a covert operation maybe, but in my opinion it’s out of DOD’s hands. We can’t put out a candle with a fire hose.”
“That’s it, Bill?”
Defense Secretary Stuart looked at Elliott. “If I may say so, the problem should have been handled long ago by General Elliott and his unit, and the aircraft should have been properly secured. We lost the aircraft. Now General Elliott wants to go in, as usual, with six-guns blazing. But if we confront the Soviets, they will probably agree to turn the aircraft over to us. It may take a few weeks, or months, but we will get the aircraft back from them. And if we do, well, that’s the bottom line.”
“So you’d just let them have it? They kill four of my flyers, two security guards and two interceptor pilots, and you’re saying that we should let them alone until they’ve done what they want with it?”
“Don’t put words in my mouth, General Elliott.” Stuart’s voice had risen. “What I’m saying is that we can’t go off and start a war over our screwups or — rather, your screwups. I agree with the President. The X-34 is great, but it isn’t worth—”
“Isn’t worth what? That aircraft is the most advanced in the world. We can’t just build a thing like that and then hand it over to the Soviets to study, for God’s sake. I don’t care if they only have it for a few days; it is still too damn long.”
“DreamStar, as I understand it, is twenty-first-century technology. The Soviets are having their problems with 1980s technology—”
“And that is a 1960s stereotype, sir,” Elliott shot back. “We all learned, or I thought we did, what a fallacy that was. Ever hear of Kavaznya, Mr. Secretary? Sary Shagan? Since the late seventies the Russians have repeatedly proved that they can keep pace with any other western nation in technology, and that includes the United States. And don’t forget Sputnik …”
“My recommendation stands, Mr. President,” Stuart said.
“I’m surprised by Bill’s position on this matter,” Dennis Danahall, the Secretary of State, said during the pause that followed Stuart’s remarks. Danahall was considerably younger than others on the Cabinet and, like Deborah O’Day, a recent White House appointee — widely thought of as a political asset to attract the support of younger voters. “I thought he’d opt for a stronger stand. But until I heard some better options I must agree with him, Mr. President. I think a strongly worded letter, perhaps from the Oval Office itself, combined with some face-to-face between myself and the Soviet Foreign Minister or their ambassador could expedite things.”
“As I said, Secretary Danahall,” Elliott interrupted, “in any other circumstance I would not favor a military response. But time really is of the essence here. We must act quickly.”
“I agree,” Deborah O’Day said. “My staff is working on an interagency report, sir, but I’m forced to go by what little General Elliott has told us about the XF-34. We can’t allow the Russians to walk off with it … A small-scale military response just may be necessary.”
The President looked briefly at O’Day, then turned away. “Any other inputs?” When he heard none he summarized: “Two suggestions to take the diplomatic route only, confront the Soviets and demand our property back. One to intervene directly. Frankly, I don’t see how far a military response would get us. As I said before, the damage has already been done here. Whether or not the Soviets give our jet back or even admit they have it is a moot point — the fact is, we lost it and this government — and I believe the Congress — is not about to start a fight to get it back … Therefore I am directing Secretary Danahall to draft a letter for my signature, using the strongest diplomatic language possible, demanding the return of our aircraft immediately. I’ll follow this up with more direct communications with the Soviet government, if necessary.”
The President now looked at Elliott. “Our business in this matter is closed. I want to reopen the previous agenda in the time remaining. General Elliott, our business is concluded. Please wait for me in my outer office.”
“Yes, sir.” Elliott stood, masking his disappointment with an expressionless stare. The Cabinet watched as the tall, thin veteran of two wars and a mission to Russia that was still only spoken of in whispers limped out of the conference room.
Cesare had alerted the President’s receptionist that Elliott was on his way, and he was quickly and politely shown into the waiting area outside the Oval Office, given a cup of coffee and asked to wait.